


i don’t want you to be alone again.

by claruh



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Pennywise (IT), can be read as a ship or just best friends, i kinda meant it as they r best friends but stozier rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claruh/pseuds/claruh
Summary: i wanted to do something that actually addresses stan’s depression because so many people either over dramatize or infantilize him because of it. maybe this is me just projecting you’ll never knowww
Relationships: Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	i don’t want you to be alone again.

Richie sighed, checking his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. The losers had all agreed to meet at his place that afternoon, but it seemed, as always it seemed, one was a no show.

_ Stan. _

Ever since they got into junior year, he had been distancing himself from everyone and coming to school less and less. According to Eddie, he was doing online school now, but Richie didn’t know what to believe. There had been no explanation, no big announcement. Just getting left on read and having calls not being answered. 

After what seemed like a millenia, Richie could hear a bike pulling up the driveway. He ran over to the front door and opened it quickly. Stan was walking up to the door, and didn’t notice Richie at first. 

He looked up from the ground and gave Richie a small smile, “You’re late.. are you okay dude?” He had made multiple attempts to check up on Stan, but bland conversations were all that followed. 

“I’m fine Rich.” He smiled, but Richie could tell how tired he was. 

“Are you sure?”

Stan sighed, “Yes, I’m okay.” He hesitantly reached out and touched Richie’s hand. 

“Stanley..” Stan just stared at him before his face began to crumble. Richie tugged him inside and quickly shut the door before running into the living room and telling the others to start the movie without them. “I’m here.” He mumbled other reassurances as they walked up the stairs together. 

Stan was trying his best not to cry, “I know I kn-“ He let out a choked sob. “Shit, I’m sorry Richie.” Richie opened his arms and Stan basically fell into him. 

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do though! I just-“ He began to actually cry. Richie rubbed his back. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” He sat down on the edge of Richie’s bed and put his head in his hands. 

Richie sat down next to him, “I- uh.. do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really, but I probably should, right?” He laughed sadly as tears were still falling. “I just haven’t been myself in so long. I don’t know what's wrong with me.” 

“Is this about-“

Stan immediately knew what he meant, “No. I don’t think so at least.” He subconsciously touched the sides of his face where his faded scars still remained. 

“What can I do to help?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore, Rich.”

“Is this why you’ve avoided us for so long?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t want any of you to pity me or try and do stupid shit to make me feel better.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” He shook his head at nothing particular. “My brain is just fucking stupid.” 

“But you’re not stupid Stan.”

“I am now.” He sighed and stood up. “Sorry, but this is the opposite of what I wanted to happen tonight. You can just forget this conversation happened, okay?” 

Richie quickly stood up after him and grabbed his hand, “Stan, you are literally my favorite person. I care about you so much man.” Stan looked like he was about to cry again. “Shit- don’t-“ Richie placed his hands on the sides of Stan’s face. 

Stan smiled sadly and placed his forehead to Richie’s, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Richie could feel Stan’s breath on his face and half-smiled. 

Stan laughed with tears still slipping down his face, “Everything you do.” His arms were wrapped around Richie’s shoulder and he could feel Richie’s hands now on his waist. “You’re my best friend, y’know that?”

“Really?”

“Of course, idiot. I’m-“ He sighed and picked his head up to look at Richie. “I’m sorry for avoiding you. I don’t know if I’ll get better any time soon, but-“ He shook his head sadly. “I love you.”

Richie’s eyes widened, and a blush spread across his face, “I love you too.” 

Stan smiled and kissed Richie’s cheek before half-mumbling into his ear, “I’m glad you were the first I was able to tell.”

“Wuh-why?” His mind still hadn’t rebooted after the kiss, whether it be platonic or not.

“Because you understand me. You know how to-“ He trailed off and made eye contact with Richie. “You know what to do to help me.”

“Of course I do. I fucking hate it when you’re upset.” He moved one of his hands to press it onto the side of Stan’s face. “Stanny, you mean the world to me.” Stan’s face still had dried tear tracks on it, but his eyes were no longer full of tears like they had been. “D’ya wanna go downstairs?”

“Not particularly.” Richie just nodded and guided him back so they could sit on the bed. “I don’t know how to go about.. just coming out and talking about this shit.”

“Everyone would understand.”

“It’s still hard, Rich.” He sighed and rubbed his temples. “I don’t want everyone to act differently around me because of this.”

“They-“

Stan cut him off, “I know they probably wouldn’t, but  _ still _ . I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared.” He felt like he was constantly on the verge of tears since he stopped crying. “I-“ He felt tears slip out of his eyes again. “Shit.” He rubbed his eyes roughly before Richie’s hands grabbed his wrists and pulled them away from his eyes. 

“You’re allowed to cry.”

“I-“ He trailed off without truly beginning his sentence. “I don’t enjoy doing it in front of people though.”

“I mean, yeah, no one does, but I’m here. You don’t need to be scared.” He held Stan’s hands in his before mumbling something unintelligible.

“What?”

He spoke up this time, “I don’t want you to be alone again.” Richie’s grip tightened around Stan’s hands like he was scared that Stan would slip away out of his reach. 

Stan’s mind flashed back to the multiple times Richie could be referring to. 

In Neibolt, the first time he had ever been so alone. Screaming for help with no answer until they all burst through the door, probably saving his life from that fucking clown. Stan still remembered Richie’s expression as he was clutching onto him. 

After the blood oath. He went home knowing he couldn’t keep his promise. Being truly scared of something was so much worse then he had ever imagined. Bill trusted him, and he trusted Bill, but there was no way in hell he would ever return to Derry. 

So many times after that where he felt helpless, and knew that no one could get him out of the hole dug by his own mind. 

He snapped back to reality when Richie squeezed his hands, “You okay? Well- I know the answer to that. Never mind.” 

“Can we go downstairs? I- I think I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure you’re ready.”

He shrugged, “I feel bad making you miss out on your own movie night.”

“Stan-“ He tugged him to his feet and looked him in the eyes. “You mean so much more to me than some dumb movie night.” Stan just smiled, his hands moving upwards to Richie’s face. “Hm?” 

Stan just looked at Richie’s face for a moment. His too big glasses and hair that fell onto his face in all sorts of different directions. He brushed the hair out of Richie’s face almost subconsciously. Richie was watching his movements carefully, almost mesmerized.

“I know I already said it, but I love you so much Rich.”

Richie pulled Stan into a hug, “I love you too.” They stayed like that for a while, with Richie moving his hands across Stan’s back in random patterns. “Are you good to go now?” Stan nodded and slowly pulled apart from Richie. 

They walked downstairs together, and into a darkened living room. Bev, who was closest to the door, waved at them and pointed to the edge of the couch. There was really only enough room for one, so Stan elected to sit on the floor, with Richie twirling his fingers through his curls. 

He leaned back into Richie’s lap and smiled up at him before whispering, “Thank you again.”

“Of course.” He patted Stan’s cheek, causing the other to laugh quietly. 


End file.
